Fide
by Heroicagal
Summary: Foggy gets some time alone with Fisk and reflects on what his role in Matt's life has been over the years.
_**A/N 1: The quotes in italics are from the Daredevil 1998 run, issue #88 "The Secret Life of Foggy Nelson". I thought they had nice symmetry with the situation set up in issues #17 and #18 of Daredevil (2014). The art gallery wasn't made up by me either, that was shown in issue # 16. Fisk has**_ _ **real**_ _ **issues.**_

 _ **Some credit for inspiration to this goes to the author of "Late Night Chat" Lady_Nora , which can be found on AO3. I loved the concept of one of Matt's enemies confronting Foggy and it snowballed from there.**_

 _But you know me Matt…You know I've never been like you._

There were times in Franklin Nelson's life where he went back and reflected upon how he got where he was. One thought after another, all tracing the line of circumstances, triumphs, and tragedies that somehow he knew would always lead him back here.

It wasn't really a surprise that after his best friend was outed in the press people would seek retribution. Matthew Murdock made a lot of enemies in the court room but Daredevil? He made them with every step he took. His very existence was about picking fights against those who thought that they were untouchable. Who stayed in their high castles and looked down upon the common folk as though they were play things available for manipulation without retribution. People like Karen, people like Kirsten. People like Foggy Nelson. Play things, means to an end with little consequence. But Matt helped make sure they thought differently. After all, nothing drove people to repentance better than the devil snapping at their heels.

 _I'm not a coward. But I'm not very brave._

As much as Foggy hated the idea of his best friend going out there and risking life and limb, he understood. He understood that Matt could do something that Foggy could never bring himself to do, no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much deep inside he sometimes secretly wished it could be him in the costume exacting vengeance against the animals that preyed on their city because deep down, everyone has those moments where they want to get a chance at doling out justice on a crazy and unjust world where good people suffered and evil men got away with what they'd done because they knew the right people or made the right figures in year. Foggy understood.

But he could never really bring himself to do it. Maybe Matt was made of sterner stuff, maybe Foggy had a stronger predilection to acting within the laws because he was also aware of the hypocrisy of being a lawyer and taking the law into his own hands. Foggy didn't know what was the key ingredient that separated him and Matt, but he knew that whatever it was drove him to plead with is friend time and again to hang up the suit and try it a different way. One that wouldn't lead to Foggy having to bury him early.

 _I_ _ **want**_ _to do the right thing. I try. But my hands and feet don't always listen to me. I know you don't hold it against me. I know you've never expected anyone to take the risks you do._

He was hard pressed to say that he'd expected it in quite this way though, the retribution he always knew was coming. Especially since his own "death" was no longer a secret, this didn't really come as a surprise. Someone was going to try and make Matt pay penance and Foggy had always had an inkling of how. But seeing a man in a grotesque parody of Matt's uniform wrapped in his father's own boxing robe was not something he'd ever really expected.

He'd heard about Ikari before, back when he was in the hospital in New York when Bullseye had come back. Matt had told him that he had all the skills of Daredevil with one added strength. He could see.

So when he'd broken into their safe house as Matt went off to talk with Fisk his first thought had been that they were _so_ screwed. In the end he'd been right. It didn't matter how much he'd tried to fight back, all he'd gotten was a beating and a bloody nose to show for his efforts and made Kirsten all the more worried. In his slightly lucid state he'd wondered why she was so worried. He'd already told her he was waiting for the results from his doctor on how long he had left to live. Why worry about a dead man walking?

But he'd fought back for Kirsten's sake and for Matt's sake because even if he really didn't have long left he wasn't going to let his friends suffer because of him. Too bad that hadn't worked out. Not that he'd expected it to, but it was nice to think that for once he might've been able to come out on top.

 _And I know you_ _ **hated**_ _that being your best friend put me in harm's way…_

Foggy had only had the pleasure of encountering Wilson Fisk on a few occasions. They were always brief and never very fun, but he had met the man a couple of times before. Well, maybe man was a bit too kind of a word to describe the monster who'd gone out and dismantled their lives time and again but Foggy wasn't really in the mood to be poetic when Ikari dragged him and Kirsten before the Kingpin. The room they were brought to… there weren't words. If he'd had any doubts about Fisk's insanity they were gone in a moment.

It was a monument to the death and utter destruction of his friend. Rendered in many different styles, an insult and abomination to the forms in which they were presented, picture upon painting upon canvas all displayed grotesque and gruesome imagery that made his already sensitive stomach churn. His face grew pale and his breathing grew shallow as he took in a particularly detailed painting that showed a man carving out Daredevil's heart and holding it in front of him as Matt's face was screwed up in some sort of deranged agony. Kirsten looked just as appalled whilst Fisk just seemed relaxed, at home. Content and happy.

"I take it neither of you are fond of my art gallery? Pity. I thought I did a rather fine job at dabbling in the different styles of the masters of old." Foggy's response was to finally let loose the bile that had been building up after his severe beating. He aimed for Wilson's pristine white jacket and felt some satisfaction that even though he missed, he was pretty close to his target. Ikari took exception to that and Foggy's head spun as he was hit hard with the base of what looked to him to be a miniature scythe. He was sure Matt knew the proper ninja name for the weapon but Foggy wasn't Matt and took it a victory that he could even identify what their general shape was like as his body tried to decide whether he should stay conscious.

Kirsten had tried to fight back, tried to help and ended up with a similar blow dealt to her side painfully. Fisk simply took it all in stride.

"Take Ms. McDuffie to the dining area and prepare her for Murdock's arrival. I wish to speak to Mr. Nelson for a moment." He ordered Ikari. Foggy felt his stomach lurch once more, this time in slight fear and Kirsten tried struggling but it was no good. She looked desperately to Foggy who shook his head slightly to discourage further action. The last thing he wanted was for another friend to be hurt because of _him_.

There was a heavy silence in the gallery as Fisk circled him. He had yet to completely stagger to his feet again. With a hand that was more like a paw he grabbed his shirt collar so that he choked slightly and dragged him over to a chair, roughly shoving him into it so that they could talk eye to eye. Sort of. Fisk still loomed like a mountain over Foggy who was able to do little more than breathe heavily.

"It has been a long time Mr. Nelson. For both of us. You have no idea how pleased I was to hear that the reports of your death were greatly exaggerated. I figure our mutual friend had a hand in that. Theatrics has always been a tool he has relied on heavily. Not so for men like us." Foggy's spine crawled at the word _us_.

 _But when you were around, it was different. The fear wasn't so real. I was still freaked whenever anything happened…My nerves were a car wreck…But even as I was sweating bullets, I somehow knew I was safe._

"You seem offended Mr. Nelson, at the comparison I have just made. Do you really not understand it yet, after all these years, why Mr. Murdock and I seem to be so...complimentary?"

"I figured it had to do with your matching predilections for insane risk taking and adrenaline rushes." Foggy rasped and tried to ignore the small spike of guilt that tugged at him over the fact that he agreed to the fact Matt and Fisk seemed to be a matched set, if opposites in that set. Fisk gave a smile that mirrored the picture of the grinning demon next to him that was gouging out Matt's eyes in that particular artistic endeavor.

"You misunderstand me Mr. Nelson. I use the tools of theatrics when dealing with your friend because I must speak to him in a way he understands. Without extreme and over the top gestures, Mr. Murdock just doesn't seem to grasp my messages. No Mr. Nelson, it is not Mr. Murdock who I seem to be the foil of, no matter what the media and he himself like to tell you. Do you want to know why I wanted to have this chat? It is because I haven't really had the time to express to you after all these years of watching your friend's life and crusade unfold. And due to your…condition I may never get the chance to speak to you of it again. I want you to know that I thank you."

"Thank me for _what_?" Foggy didn't understand the least. What was he talking about? Foils? Matched sets? What was he getting at? What could he possibly have to thank him for?

"Well Mr. Nelson, you have helped me to understand how best to approach the handling of the nuisance that is your friend. Without watching how you approached the conundrum that is his audacious and abrupt manner I would've floundered for much longer trying to understand what makes him tick. Men like us don't operate in the world he does, do we?"

"I'm nothing like you." Foggy insisted, hating every second of being in this room with this man. The "art" decorating the walls were starting to blur together in a mess of reds that reminded him of Matt. His shock of red hair, the red tinted glasses, the red on his suit, the red of his blood. It was dizzying. To the far right he noticed a portrait of Matt being burned alive and his mouth was open in a monstrous display of torment as he inhaled smoke and his charred flesh puckered in scabs and burns of red. Foggy coughed hard and more red splattered the marble floors to mix with his vomit. Fisk was unperturbed.

"Really Mr. Nelson, you're an educated man. I sure you understand what I'm getting at. You see, I'm not your friend's foil. No, we'd have killed each other long ago if that were the case with our insane lack of restraint in the face of danger and exposure. No Mr. Nelson, the honor of that title belongs to _you_."

 _And I know that's insane. I know you can't protect everyone…Not even the people you love. But maybe I let myself believe the lie a bit, anyway. Just to be close to it._

"I'm not going to stop being Daredevil Foggy." How many times had Matt tried to explain that to him? In how many different ways? "That's what Fisk wants. I won't give him the satisfaction." And yet somehow Foggy had almost convinced him to hang up the suit.

"Why do you think this is the best play?" Matt had once asked as they debated their legal strategies in a case that involved one of Fisk's many enterprises. He had shrugged it off.  
"I don't know, seems like the right play. It's what I would do if I were an evil business man." They'd won that case.

"I quit working for them when I found out that they were connected with Fisk." Foggy had explained in relation to his parting ways from Kelco. "Somehow I felt like there was something familiar about the way they did things. I was able to maneuver too easily, fit right in. I guess it's because I've seen the pattern before."

"The name's Nelson. 'Guts' Nelson." He had no idea what he was doing besides something tantamount to suicide as he faced the Kingpin in person and exhaled his cigarette right in his face. It just seemed like the best option at the time to proving he was who he was masquerading as. It seemed like the right way to get respect of a man who intimidated and bullied and spit in the face of those he thought were lower than him. It worked, Fisk hired him under the presumption of his qualifications as "muscle" and he could never get over the slight twinge of unease he felt at the hidden slight admiration in Fisk's eyes as he leaves that night. Not with the disgusting habits he pretended to have or his supposed fighting skills, but admiration at his attitude and indeed his "guts" to bully the ultimate and most powerful player in New York. It unsettles him, seeing that kind of admiration from a man like Fisk.

"I know it was you Foggy. You like to sign your work when you send a message." Matt grumbled at him as he flashed the Daredevil costume dyed purple. Foggy was unrepentant.

"Maybe you'll have to stay in and work on the case now." He grinned in triumph as his partner gave a long suffering sigh and sat down. Months later he found an old and shredded Daredevil costume tucked away in his friend's home.

"What is this here for Matt?" He'd asked innocently enough. When Matt realized what he was looking at he had quickly guarded his expression and tried to shut down the conversation but Foggy wouldn't have it.

"It's from a long time ago when Fisk thought he could get me to back down. It was a nice piece of work, but he shouldn't have signed it. I keep that as a reminder of why I can't back down." Foggy unwillingly remembered something to that effect being said by him over what he felt was a harmless prank months ago and a deep feeling of apprehension settled in his belly over that. But then Matt had distracted him and he had forgotten about it until later that night when he had vowed to never touch one of Matt's suits again.

….

Foggy felt the memories flash through his mind in a cacophony of evidence that Fisk might be more right than he wanted to let on and his breathing hitched. Was he right? Could this have been what Foggy might've been in another life?

"Of course, there are some differences between us. We understand the need for order, the benefits of working quietly and endlessly in the background, of the path to success being the one with the least amount of fanfare. The tortoise overcoming the hare as it might be equivocated. But you have one fatal flaw Mr. Nelson, you have a conscious that stops you from doing what is necessary. From being able to sacrifice the petty and insignificant pawns for the sake of the end goal. You made that clear when you retired from the position I offered you. It was a test, Mr. Nelson, to see your usefulness to me. Your capability to do what was necessary to reach the greatest victory and you failed miserably. In that respect you are much more similar to Mr. Murdock than you are to me. It is our greatest difference, if not a fatal one." Foggy felt relief actually flow through him in that statement. He truly was no Wilson Fisk and the man himself agreed with that statement. "Even so, I thank you for showing me how best to deal with our pesky little devil. You handle him quite admirably and he's rather fond of you." Foggy closed his eyes in exhaustion as the flood of emotions started to ebb and he finally understood why he was here.

 _But then the truth stabs you in the belly. And it scares you out of your denial._

"It has been fascinating to watch the intricate web of lies that you two have built become wrenched apart. In yet another show of dramatics, your friend has announced his identity to the world. He's upset the whole balance of our arrangement." Fisk snapped his fingers and one of his men scurried out of the gallery to go and fetch something for him. Foggy was shivering slightly at this point, sweat pouring down his face and he refused to give Wilson the satisfaction of seeing the fear in his eyes.

"I've found that your friend is a highly emotional man, with deep running sentiments that are hard to shake. Unswervingly loyal to his ideals and to a select group of people. You in particular the most among them." Fisk went on. Foggy said nothing as he panted softly against the heat flash he felt. "I mean really, what was his first priority after outing himself? It was to elaborately fake your death in front of all of New York and to spirit you away in some safe house so he could continue his little crusade without fear of reprisal. Foolish of him to think it would work. All it did was cement in my mind where his breaking point was." The man entered with the items Fisk had sent him for and Foggy looked up, feeling a spike of fear. There was a concoction of chemicals and an IV drip that had been brought in. Unbidden and unwanted he thought back to the time the Sons of the Serpent had drugged him into verifying all of Matt's inner most secrets. A cold sweat broke out now and his breathing hitched. He scrambled to get out of the chair he was situated in but two of Fisk's men held him down.

"What do you think, Mr. Nelson, that he would do for you?" Fisk nonchalantly continued as his men set to work on restraining him and inserting the IV. They were far from gentle and the manacles that he had decided to use to detain him were heavy and cumbersome. So much so that he had trouble even lifting his hands to try and fight back. The chemicals he had ordered to enter into his system were actually starting to soothe his irritated condition and he felt his stomach start to settle. "I think that he would die for you. As a matter of fact, he offered to this morning if not in deed but in spirit." Foggy looked over at Fisk now, his eyes questioning and confused as to what his and Matt's conversation had entailed. Fisk wasn't going to share though.

"Of course, I'll need to test that theory. But in all the years, in all the many ways I could've taken down the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, I suppose I needed to look no farther than his right hand. I suppose I didn't think on it until he went after Vanessa, made me miss burying my dead wife. As I said, men like us tend to think different than men like him. But not tonight. Tonight I play by his rules." Fisk motioned to one of his men who handed him something that made Foggy swallow hard. "Tonight the Devil pays his dues." Fisk leaned over Foggy and encircled a leather collar around his neck, one he could hear buzzing faintly. "The Devil dies tonight Mr. Nelson, and Mr. Murdock too. Because if he doesn't, I promise you that I will end him another way. I will destroy the one anchor he has had and fought so hard to protect all these years. I will end what he holds most precious in this world in the face of staggering and countless losses." He tightened the collar with hard yank and Foggy choked slightly, his throat constricting. He gasped for air and his voice came out rasping.

"You'll lose." Foggy said with what little defiance he could muster. Fisk chuckled softly and indicated to his men that they should take him out.

"I'll bring Daredevil to his knees. He'll see my final ultimatum and either accept the inevitable or lose what he has left to fight for. You'll be my greatest revenge _Foggy_." He sneered the nickname that Matt had given him and had insisted that people call him by ever since. "You know how much I like to sign my work, make it personal. If he won't bend then you'll be enough to destroy him. Enjoy your dinner as we wait for your red knight. And don't try to resist me. You'll only end up injuring yourself, that collar is electrified and I hate to think what it could do to someone in your fragile state. Good evening, Mr. Nelson. I am so glad we could finally have a proper chat."

With that Foggy was dragged away to wait for his best friend to arrive. It was times like these that he wished that he could be a friend without fear because as much as he loathed to admit it, he was afraid. Afraid for himself yes, but terrified for Matt. Because he realized he understood how the Kingpin thought. And he knew he was right about Matt.

Foggy didn't want to be the reason behind the end of either Daredevil or Matt Murdock, as often as he had tried to get Matt retire the costume. Because he finally, _finally_ understood fully why Matt went out there at night and couldn't give it up. He finally understood that Daredevil was as much a part of his best friend as Matthew Michael Murdock was. And right now he needed them both. He just hoped that he could be the anchor that Matt needed right now. The one Kingpin had talked about.

The one Foggy hoped that Matt could live without.

Often times Franklin Nelson thought back and reflected upon how has life had gotten to this point. He traced circumstances and tragedies and triumphs and he ended up right where he knew he'd be eventually. Smack dab in the middle of trouble, ever since he had met Matt Murdock at Columbia. And as scared as he was, he didn't regret one minute of it. Not for anything in the world would he regret or abandon his friendship with Matt. He realized that he was a goner the day he knew Matt was Daredevil because it was then that it cemented in his mind just how much his friend would need him and he realized that he could never truly turn his back on him, walk out on him. Nor did he want to.

He would see this thing through to the end even if it killed him. Which right now, it looked like it would. But what did it matter? He was a dead man walking anyway. If it wasn't Fisk, it would be the cancer. This way at least his death would mean something. He would be dying for a friend and to make sure that the greatest man he knew never sacrificed his principles. Because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Matt wouldn't give in to Fisk's ultimatum. But he didn't want him to.

Franklin "Foggy" Nelson was no man without fear, but he was no coward either.

 _You can't watch out for me all the time, Matt…_

 _ **A/N 2: So…Yeah. I started watching Netflix's Daredevil last year and I loved it. Then I found the comics and I fell in love with Daredevil even more. The last issues of the 2014 series really sparked my curiosity and intrigued my muse and this was born.**_

 _ **Now, on the whole foil aspect and why Fisk felt so inclined to talk to Foggy. As I watched Season 2 of Daredevil on Netflix I kept thinking about how Fisk and Matt were opposites but not quite foils. See, Frank Castle or the punisher fit that bill better. And the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me that I couldn't understand why Matt and Fisk were such a good fit as enemies. And then it hit me that while they weren't quite the foils of each other, Fisk was awfully close to being the opposite of one of the most important people in Matt's life: Foggy.**_

 _ **Foggy is the one thing that is a constant in Matt's life in the comics. His love interests change, the girls he plan on marrying or do marry either go crazy or leave him or die but there's always Foggy Nelson in the background to catch him when he falls. Even in the times when they're fighting, Foggy eventually comes back while nobody else can claim to have that consistency with Matt.**_

 _ **And in the 2014 run you can see just how much Matt depends on and cares about his friend. He insisted that he fake his death to protect him, not necessarily worrying over Kirsten as much as he did Foggy (to clarify, I understand that he cares a lot about Kirsten too and of all Matt's love interests I like Kirsten the best because they suit each other beautifully). When Fisk presents his ultimatum it is Foggy's presence who impacts him the most. The font in the comics is in italics when he identifies the hostages Fisk has gathered in the room to try and persuade Matt to let Ikari slaughter him. And who does Ikari go for first in order to halt Matt's advancement to attack? He goes straight for the jugular of Matt figuratively by doing the same to Foggy literally. These issues really clarified to me just what Foggy means to Matt and I absolutely loved the underlying exploration of their relationship in their pages.**_

 _ **Sorry about the book for an author's note but I felt the concept was a bit out of left field and needed some thorough explaining.**_

 _ **Happy reading, writing, and obsessing,**_

 _ **Heroicagal**_


End file.
